


Manipulation

by Cerberusia



Series: Dark Voltron Week 2017 [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Groping, Other, Sentient Technology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 10:54:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9381350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerberusia/pseuds/Cerberusia
Summary: It all started because Lance thought the pilot suits were kinda sexy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The alternate title for this fic is 'Pounded In The Butt By My Own Mechanical Lion'. It's less overtly creepy than my other offerings for Dark Voltron Week, but I hope it's still within the spirit.

It all started because Lance thought the pilot suits were kind of sexy. The armor was okay, but the skin-tight biosuits were pretty slinky, especially when Allura wore one and you could see exactly how big her tits were and how small her waist was. They were pretty flattering on the guys, too; though, to be fair, Shiro wandered around in painted-on t-shirts anyway, so the suit was actually _less_ revealing. And the way they _felt_ , silky and skin-tight...The moment Lance put his on, he thought, _I would totally jerk off wearing this._

That was probably how it all started. The place where it got weird was a little later than that: a few months after they all managed to reunite in the correct universe, in the aftermath of a particularly difficult raid on a Galra cruiser supposedly carrying supplies to one of the big bases - along with prisoners.

There were no prisoners, for better or for worse; but there was a great quantity of tech that Pidge and Hunk 'liberated' for further study. Lance and Keith were left to set explosives in the hold then get the hell out.

They nearly didn't get out. They avoided the sentry patrols, since Shiro had memorised the pattern and taught them all, but that couldn't account for a group of what must have been science technicians coming down to the hold to fetch a microscope or whatever. And Galra science technicians carried _guns_.

The first shot went wide, and immediately Lance and Keith were both scrambling for their Lions.

The second shot hit an explosive that Lance had just planted.

They rode out of there on the resulting blast, Blue howling in Lance's ears. Shields were down to 42% in the back and the smoke billowed so copiously into the void of space that Lance couldn't even see Red. Animal fear seized his heart.

But the smoke cleared in the airless vacuum and Keith's voice came over the comm - _Lance, are you there?_ \- just as Lance picked up Red on his right-hand monitor. The hint of worry in Keith's tone was - not nice, exactly, but gratifying.

"I'm here, only lightly toasted. You?"

"Same." But there was no time to talk, because the Galra had managed to scramble a few cruisers - probably as many as a science ship like this carried.

They didn't form Voltron - it was easier to pick them off one by one. They'd all been practicing, and it was the work of minutes to evade and incinerate the lot. Pidge had a particular gift for spotting and targeting fuel lines.

It wasn't until they were heading back to the portal that the full impact of nearly being burnt to a crisp hit Lance. He permitted himself a few shudders. That had been a close one.

It took him a long moment to realise that the thrumming going through him wasn't just the feeling of Blue's engines, but his suit. His suit was very gently _vibrating_. It didn't feel bad: it actually felt quite nice. It was like a cat purring.

Man, Lance missed Hepzibah. Anna had named him, completely undeterred by Lance looking up the name and informing her that it was a _girl's_ name. Come to think of it, he really missed Anna, too.

And then he stopped thinking of his little sister or his cat, because the vibration was _really nice_ and also turning him on a little bit.

 _You got a built-in seat warmer too?_ he thought as they all leapt for the portal. It distracted him from that twinge of anxiety he still got every time they made the jump, envisioning a repeat of The Incident.

Blue - because it was Blue controlling the suit, Lance was sure - kept up the gentle vibration all the way to Arus, ending only when they touched down in the Castle. Lance imagined it was Hepzibah, curled up on his lap and purring. There were Allura's mice, who could be persuaded to perch on the hand or the shoulder, but it wasn't the same. He was slightly regretful to have to step out of Blue's mouth and lose the soothing sensation.

So that was nice. They debriefed - including Lance and Keith's little mishap with the explosives, which made Allura look endearingly worried - and disbanded. Lance knew that Hunk would be going to the kitchens, Keith would be going to shower, Pidge would be going to start examining the new tech and borrowing Shiro for the use of his arm...and Lance himself would go to his room and jerk off.

He'd like to do it in the shower, but it turned out that that was what Keith did after a mission, and Lance didn't want a repeat of the time when he discovered that. Keith hadn't seen him, thank God, but the memory had given Lance confused boners for weeks. So he just lay back on his bed and lazily worked off some of the excess excitement from that raid, thinking of the sweet vibration his suit had provided.

He wasn't expecting the vibrating-thingy to happen again on a practice flight. He was just practicing evasion, up in the sky above Arus, twisting and turning in the air as Keith lobbed fireballs at him. Only small ones: they didn't want to actually damage Blue if Lance's reaction times were a little slow.

But this time they were totally in sync, ducking and weaving and rolling without even seeing Keith's fireballs - Blue sensed them and Lance _knew_ , and they moved together. It was exhilarating.

"That's twenty minutes," Keith's voice announced crisply over the comm line as the fireballs stopped. Red came to hover in front of him. "Good," he added. It had taken Lance a long time - and a whole planet full of nasty jungles and only Keith for company - to reconcile himself to the fact that Keith didn't think there was a rivalry between them and wouldn't have cared even if he had. He also wasn't an asshole, which was very confusing because Lance had been working on the assumption that he was for nearly a year.

"I know, right?" Lance preened. "You nearly got us _so many times_ , but Blue was just _there_."

"You looked really in sync," Keith agreed. "Well done. I'm gonna do some target practice with Red; come and find me in half an hour and we'll do the same in reverse?"

"Sure!" Red turned and left, heading for the target range they'd collectively set up a few miles over. Keith's little adventure alone in the depths of space had somehow involved some very important precision shooting - Lance didn't know the details, Keith didn't like to talk about it and he could respect that - and now he was serious about target practice. Well, Keith was serious about everything; but particularly about target practice.

His suit was vibrating again. That was a nice surprise. Lance stretched, enjoying the sensation. It also felt...tighter in some places. Like the crotch. He squirmed in his seat, admiring the bulge his half-hard cock made in the skintight fabric.

Well, he could work with that. He was wearing his biosuit but not his armour, so it was easy to just slide down the zipper in the front and get out his dick. He felt hot - like the suit was heating up in places. _Guess you do have a built-in seat warmer._ He squeezed his dick slowly, letting his head roll back.

He'd had fantasies about jerking off in his Lion pretty much since he found it: aloft in the sky, the powerful rumble of the engines vibrating through him, simultaneously private and open. But now the whole _suit_ was getting in on the action, like it was stroking and warming him all over. It felt so _good_ , like liquid or silk.

He came all over his hand, and on the seat too, curling up as spasms of pleasure clenched all his muscles and wracked him with shivering pulses. He _might_ have let out a couple of undignified whimpers. Ooh, that was a _good_ orgasm, the kind that left you wobbly afterwards.

He took Blue on a leisurely flight to find Keith. He wondered if Keith ever did that: masturbated in his Lion, feeling the power of her engine beneath him. Keith seemed the type to enjoy that. Unfortunately, he was also the type who didn't talk about his masturbatory habits, even though they'd all seen the memory of him eagerly sucking off older cadets in the Garrison showers. _That_ had been awkward. Maybe that was where his thing for jerking off under running water came from?

The practice with Keith went fine, even though Lance was slightly distracted at the beginning with plotting how to get Keith to confess to jerking off in his Lion, since he was pretty sure now that he did. Then one of Red's fireballs came a fraction too close for comfort, and he shelved that thought to focus on not getting fried.

Lance thought about that kind of thing a lot: sex in general, but particularly sex in the specific. How did the other Paladins jerk off? How would they be during sex? What if Allura had a freaky tentacle dick and fucked some hot alien babe with it? (He thought about that last one a lot). He didn't necessarily _want_ to have _sex_ with them or anything (though if Keith decided to return to his dick-sucking ways and made the first move he, uh, might not say no; and Allura was always a given, yowza) - he was just...curious. He met alien species and wondered how they reproduced. Back on Earth he'd meet a couple and wonder how they did it. It wasn't like he _asked_ them - well, not unless he had a drink or two in him. It was just something that regularly crossed his mind.

It was hardly surprising that he was randy as fuck. Twice a day, every day - regular as brushing his teeth. Back in school it had been three times a day, or he couldn't concentrate on anything else. He didn't think it was _that_ unusual. It was just fortunate that his Lion seemed to think that helping him jerk off was a nice bonding activity.

He thought that for two weeks, until the mission to a planet with the unmemorable designation of PT1947390. He couldn't say that string of numbers and letters would be forever emblazoned on his memory - he'd barely skimmed them in the first place - but he sure remembered what happened there.

It was a nice routine sort of mission: the Galra have set up a base on this planet, go shoot at them and make them leave. The sort of mission objective that Lance could really get behind. It wasn't quick - there were always defenses to get behind and fighters to evade - but once it was done it was _done_ , and the proof was in the smoking crater.

This time it took even longer, because there was a Robeast waiting for them.

Like all the Robeasts so far, it had lasers. The Galra had a _thing_ about lasers, particularly inescapable ones. The more lasers a thing could spam, the better they seemed to think it was. Lance preferred accuracy, himself, though he could appreciate the benefits of just hitting something with so much overwhelming force that it disintegrated - though less when he was the thing at risk of being disintegrated.

They had to form Voltron, of course: the Robeast had sacrificed manoeuverability for heavy armour, shaping itself into something vaguely resembling a scorpion, and none of them had enough individual firepower to piece its shell.

As soon as they were all linked in and Voltron formed, the Robeast's limbs promptly detatched. There were now six miniature Robeasts - which were much more manoeuverable, besides packing quite a sting.

"Should we split again?" Hunk asked. Voltron was fast, but it would obviously be easier to deal with them in the individual Lions.

"No, it'll only reform! We need a different plan." That was Shiro, in his most heroic leader-ly voice.

"Well _come up_ with one, then!" Keith sounded aggravated, probably because he had two of the miniature Robeasts trying to bomb him at once.

They did, in the end and after a lot of evasive manoeuvres. It involved Blue's freezing powers, which made Lance feel pretty swell, and soon all six mini-scorpions were encased in blocks of ice scattered around the landscape, unable to muster enough power on their own to break free. Then Lance and Hunk got to stamp on them, which was even more satisfying.

They flew back to the Castle in high spirits. The natives hadn't been able to offer them much - they looked like they were subsistence farmers on the arid planet, and either they were all one sex or the women were _seriously_ ugly - but they'd been very grateful and had given them some of the fruit that grew abundantly in a scrubby forest some miles away. It was juicy, tasted like a cross between a pear and a peach, and was probably the most palatable food they'd come across so far. Hunk wanted to set up some kind of trade, on the grounds that they could barter Arusian cereals for the softfruit, and they all hoped Allura would agree. The fruit would be great, and getting rid of some of the unpalatable grain even better.

Blue did the vibrating thing again on the way back, which was nice. Lance felt warm and cared-for, the sweet taste of the softfruit still on his tongue. The suit tightened - it squeezed his calves, then his thighs, then his shoulders. This thing gave _massages_? Awesome.

It continued like that all the way back to the Castle. The pressure seemed to grow more confident, touching him all over, alternating between hard and soft. It felt so good - and not just a little sexy - that Lance was loath to get out of his Lion once they'd touched down.

And then what felt like a pair of large hands _firmly squeezed his ass_. Lance yelped and sprang up so quickly that he fell straight out of Blue's mouth.

"My suit just groped me!" That came out very high-pitched.

" _Groped_ you?" Pidge scooted out from under Green to squint at him properly. "Are you sure it's not just sticking to you in uncomfortable places? Mine does that sometimes."

Keith was blunter: "Lance, you _wish_ your suit was groping you."

"No, I swear! It was like - " Lance made some illustrative gestures in the air.

" _Definitely_ wishful thinking." Pidge slid back under Green.

And that was that. Lance sulked for the whole debriefing. It was probably his imagination, but he thought that there was the touch of a smirk in one side of Blue's metal mouth.

It happened again on the next mission, and whenever Lance was in Blue: vibrating, warming, squeezing. It was clearly _not_ just wishful thinking, but to be perfectly honest now he'd got over the shock Lance was really kind of enjoying it, so he said no more about it to the other Paladins and started keeping a box of tissues in Blue to clean up the inevitable result.

It got more serious during - thank God - a practice flight. That was probably deliberate, too.

They were all doing their own thing, communing and bonding with their Lions. There was something about being up in the cloudless sky, just you and your Lion, that made it easy to slip inside, to think and act as one.

Lance still couldn't work out exactly how sentient the Lions were: none of them could, not even Pidge or Hunk. But there was clearly _something_ that let them choose their Paladins, and something that could understand and communicate with them. They had opinions and preferences. Their respect could be earned and lost. Lance hadn't quite managed to have what he'd call a _conversation_ with Blue, but it might only be a matter of time.

So there he was, in Blue, floating over Arus. They weren't doing much: just drifting, Lance looking through Blue's eyes at the dense vegetation below. There were small mammals in the trees, looking like a cross between a squirrel and a monkey, that Lance had never seen before. Maybe they were only local to this part of the planet: they probably wouldn't do so well in the open farmland and tribal villages around the Castle.

It made him think of the spider monkeys back home, and the way his youngest sister kept feeding them even though it drove his mama crazy because she didn't want them anywhere near the house. Then he started thinking of his mama and his sisters, and he couldn't really focus on bonding with Blue because he missed them _so much_. Especially his mother's cooking.

His suit started vibrating. Warmth seeped into his muscles. It felt so good, his dick stiffening in Pavlovian reaction - but Lance pulled himself out of Blue's point of view, shaking his head until he was looking at the inside of the cockpit again. He knew what was coming next.

Sure enough, the suit started to squeeze, pulsing up and down his arms and legs. What felt like hands seized his ass and chest, squeezing as if he had tits. That was...maybe a bit much. Then his legs were spread open, the suit got tighter in the crotch and it started playing with his _dick_ , and Lance exclaimed,

"Hey, cut it out!"

\- because that was seriously out of order. But the treatment continued.

It felt as if he was being groped all over. Lance tried to get the suit off, trying to stop it - but the zipper had just vanished, as though it had never been there. There wasn't even a seam to rip.

The suit kept squeezing his dick, from base to tip as though it were trying to milk him. It didn't feel like when he jerked off: it was clearly something else, alien and warm like a living thing. Lance's dick throbbed, and he clutched at it through the fabric of his suit.

Invisible fingers seemed to drag over his skin, all over from neck to feet. They used a delicate touch on his neck, like a breath or the scratch of a fingernail, and Lance shivered despite himself. The suit did it again: Lance tried to tug at the collar, but it wouldn't budge, couldn't be peeled away from his skin.

The suit squeezed his balls too, but gently, like it knew how to handle them. _How does it know?_ Lance thought hysterically. Then the pressure slid further back to his taint, that wasn't really called the taint but Lance didn't care because the pressure there was increasing at the same time as his dick was being stimulated harder and faster, and it felt like it was touching something _inside_ him. Sparks of pleasure shot through him, up his spine and through his abdomen, making his hips jerk helplessly.

He stopped fighting: it wasn't hurting him. Blue would never hurt him. But she wouldn't _stop_ either, even when Lance had begged her to. He seized the arms of his control chair as the suit pinched his nipples - he hadn't even realised that could feel good for guys, but pleasure thrummed at the base of his spine. He put his head back and let his Lion take care of him.

It was like being dragged under. Pleasure subsumed him, neurons firing, nerves stimulated by invisible hands. Was this what sex felt like? Was it always this good? It felt like someone was licking his neck now, sucking at the tendon, and it felt _fantastic_. Lance's legs fell apart as if to let the suit have better access to his dick, which ached. He thrust his hips into the air and felt the wet slide - was he leaking through the suit? He'd always thought it was hot when the girls in the amateur videos did that, got so wet you could see the outline of their pussy through their panties.

He didn't know why, but that pressure against his taint was increasing and it felt _good_ , like it was touching the base of his dick - no, something deeper, some nerve where all the sexual pleasure was gathering into a knot, drawing tight. He heard himself making small, high-pitched whimpering noises that were almost drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears, like it felt so good he couldn't contain himself.

The suit pinched his nipples _hard_ , like a bite, and he really cried out then because it _hurt_ but it sent lightning bolts of pleasure through him too, urging him on to rock his hips back and forth into the invisible sucking pressure around his dick. He couldn't think of anything except how badly he wanted to come, scrabbling at the armrest with one hand and trying to grab his dick through his suit with the other. He couldn't - he couldn't -

Orgasm tore through him, blinded him, deafened him. He felt his mouth open wide, face contorting, but he didn't know if he made a sound. Pleasure wracked him, made him jerk about and flail as if trying to escape its uncompromising grip. It was so intense it went on and on, waves rolling in, exploding from his abdomen, leaving him helpless, mindless.

He collapsed, panting, in his chair. He felt emptied, drained, achy.

He let Blue take him back to the Castle. After that performance, he could hardly claim she wasn't intelligent enough to know the way.

He got his next surprise when he peeled off the suit. He'd expected to be mopping up come off the lining - which, gross - but there was nothing there. Just like, he realised, the suits were never sweaty when they were taken off, no matter where the Paladins had been or what they'd done.

He gave the suit a narrow-eyed look and hung it up. It could keep its secrets. Lance wanted a nap. And then a drink.

In the end, it was just something to get used to. Put on suit, fly, be masturbated to a spectacular orgasm by his Lion. At least Blue had eased off a little after that first time: he didn't come so hard his abs hurt and he had to lie down, which was a lot more convenient. He'd been worried he was going to strain something, which was pretty impressive for an athletic teenager who used to jerk off twice a day.

It was in the aftermath of a training exercise that the suit tried out its latest - and most alarming - idea.

So Keith and Hunk and him had been practicing formations, specifically to take advantage of Yellow's armour, Red's firepower and Blue's manoeuverability. It was fun: Lance had no head for tactics, so he just did what Shiro had told them to do as best he could and managed not to crash into any of the others despite working so close together. It seemed to work out OK, as best he could tell. Keith didn't swear, which he usually only did when something went tits-up, so that was a good start.

They headed back to the Castle slowly, all of them just taking in the scenery. Arus looked very close to Earth in some places, then in others was obviously alien, but it was all beautiful. Lance wondered if Altea had looked anything like this.

His suit vibrated gently, contracting and relaxing slowly. That was good: it was building up to a relaxing session, not a come-your-brains-and-internal-organs-out gropefest. The comms were open, and he now knew just how loud he could get. He felt himself get hard immediately: his body knew what was coming.

It squeezed his nipples, first soft, then hard, pinching at them sharply. The alternating sensations felt good, sending _zing_ s of pleasure to his dick. All that jerking off, and he hadn't realised that could feel good until Blue started playing with them. The pinching turned to sucking pressure with the ghost of imaginary teeth, and Lance groaned between his teeth. Blue knew just how to get him going.

"You OK?" Hunk asked over the comm.

"Yeah, fine, just - stretching. You know when there's a knot in your back that's _really_ hard to pop?"

"Oh yeah," said Hunk, "just next to your shoulder so you feel like you should be able to rotate it out but you can't? Yeah."

That dealt with, Lance turned off his microphone. He could never keep quiet, and he didn't want to try to deal with any more awkward questions _in flagrante_ , so to speak - which, thanks to Pidge, he now knew didn't mean 'while on fire'.

The firm pressure on his taint made him struggle briefly in his seat with how strange and good it felt, like it was touching the base of his dick from the inside. The undulating pressure extended to his balls, as if they were being gently squeezed. He hoped that one day the suit would suck them like it did his nipples.

The pressure spread behind his taint, pressing a line between his ass cheeks -

"Woah! Blue, no!" Lance twisted in his seat, but the suit spread his legs further and the pressure against his asshole increased. It seemed to tease the rim, gently probing and tapping. It was inconceivable that it might - but it was, it was pressing in, violating him.

"I _don't want this!_ " But something like a finger or a tentacle squirmed inside him, opening him up. He tore at his flight suit, but just like before, the zip had disappeared. Panic seized his throat. It didn't matter that he knew there was no way it could actually be forcing something into his virgin anus: it _felt_ like there was something there, slowly easing its way into him, warm and pulsing as if it were alive.

"Please!" he begged. But more slid into him, stretching him, filling him up. It didn't even feel bad: he wasn't allowed the dignity of not enjoying it. But it seemed to stroke him slickly inside, a tender touch in places he hadn't believed could bring him sexual pleasure. It was intimate and violating. He clutched helplessly at the arms of his seat, feeling invisible forces spread his legs even wider. He was hot under the suit, hot and sweating and sensitive, and he wanted to cry from the incredible pressure, the overwhelming physical wanting.

It's not real, he told himself as he bent double in his seat. But it definitely _felt_ real as it seemed to grow thicker inside him, the width of a penis but stroking in a way no human dick could. It stimulated his inner walls, which were shockingly sensitive. It pulsed and flexed, and every writhing movement made Lance shudder. The suit was still playing with his nipples, soft insistent sucking mixed with hard bites that made him cry out.

Then the invasive _thing_ in his ass stroked something that made him see white. Then it did it again, and his mouth was open and he kept letting out little whimpering moans as it started rubbing it and the pressure on his taint was still there and it was the same spot, something deep inside him being stimulated from both directions, and it felt like it was stroking the _inside_ of his dick.

Lance hung his head and panted. He hoped Blue was following the others, because he couldn't pay attention to anything on his viewscreens. All his attention was on the way his suit was fucking him slowly and thoroughly. It wasn't touching his dick directly, and it throbbed where it was trapped under the material, making an obvious bulge at his crotch.

The thing in his ass pulsed _hard_. Unable to even open his suit, Lance seized his dick through the material, pressing his hands between his legs and squeezing, rubbing. He didn't want to come from being fucked in the ass, but the suit wasn't giving him a choice. It trapped him, spread his legs and kept him off balance so he was slumped in his chair, as if to give better access to an invisible penetrator. But there was nobody else there: only the suit and his own harsh breathing.

It took him apart, piece by piece. It battered his inner walls, pinched his nipples, sucked at his balls. It groped him, invaded him, and Lance gasped wetly as he was fucked inexorably towards orgasm. He grasped his stiff dick through his suit, moved his hips back and forth as he tried to fuck his hand. His mouth was open, his eyes unseeing, sweat rolling down his back - he was completely overwhelmed by pleasure.

Climax swept him up and dragged him under. He jerked in his chair like a fish on a line, wracked with hard spasms of pleasure, supernovas in his abdomen, the suit milking the come out of him in long spurts as he came with helpless, guttural sounds.

Then it was over. He crumpled in his chair and let Blue take him home. When he looked out of the cockpit, still panting, they were nearly back at the Castle anyway. Had Blue timed that deliberately?

He got away with it that time: he managed to stagger out of Blue in front of Keith and Hunk not looking _too_ well-fucked, though he was sure his cheeks were still pink. But he knew that it wouldn't be the last, and he couldn't quite articulate how he felt about that.

He even contemplated telling somebody about it - Shiro, probably, he might not even be embarrassed - but something always stopped him. What was even the problem? "My Lion won't stop giving me spectacular orgasms, help"? His _body_ sure liked it: maybe it was just time his brain got with the program.

So he didn't say anything; and none of the others mentioned their suits doing anything funny, so he had to assume it was just Blue. Why did he have to get the pervert Lion? Or was it like how pets were like their owners, and it was just responding to his own innate perviness? Did Blue know better than he did how he wanted to be fucked?

They bonded, at least: they flew faster, smoother, smarter. The team was stronger. But he sometimes wondered, when flying back from a raid with what felt like a dick up his ass, trying not to let out any incriminating noises into his mic, whether what he wanted mattered to Blue at all.


End file.
